


An Ordinary Valentine's Day

by JamesSunderlandsPillow



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Brother/Sister bonding, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I Love You All, I'm not one of those people, Some people hate AO3 tags, enjoy, read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesSunderlandsPillow/pseuds/JamesSunderlandsPillow
Summary: Lincoln discovers Lynn is upset, and decides to help cheer her up. (One-shot, I do not own The Loud House.)





	An Ordinary Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> For my hero.

 

The Loud House, daylight.

Lincoln and his best friend Clyde are hanging out in the living room and playing some of their favorite game, Starship Cruisers Battlefront II.

“Oof! Wow Clyde! That’s like, the third Marksman bonus you’ve gotten this match!” Lincoln cheers his friend on upon seeing him snipe an automaton from the highest point of the map.

“Thanks. And might I say, it was quite wise of you to choose a garrison bonus for this one. We would’ve lost Command Post 3 again if it wasn’t for that,” Clyde praises.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door literally being kicked open becomes audible, startling the boys and making them jump in their seats.

“YAH!”

They look over to entryway, and see Lynn Jr. From the way she huffs and snarls, to the way she clenches her fists and carries herself; it’s obvious she’s in a very foul mood.

The boys gulp in unison as they stare at her with frightened faces.

Lynn realizes this, and glares back at them. “What? Got something to say?!” she barks.

Belatedly, almost with adrenaline alone, Lincoln musters a shaky: “No.”

“Good!” Lynn shouts. “I’m going to my room for the rest of the night. If anyone asks, tell them to _leave me alone!”_ she demands.

Lucy makes her presence felt as she pokes her head out of the nearest ventilation shaft. “Where am I supposed to go?” she asks.

“FIGURE IT OUT!” Lynn shouts as she marches up the stairs, totally disregarding anything and anyone in the way.

Lucy goes back to hiding in her hole, and Lincoln and Clyde recover from the excitement.

The latter nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Yeesh… I wonder what that was about?” he asks.

Lincoln frowns with a sigh as he looks to the stairs, then back to his best friend. “I’m not sure. I hope she’s okay,” he expresses with concern.

Clyde considers his words for a moment, then responds, “Well, maybe you should go check on her? Maybe it’s serious?” he suggests.

Lincoln winces with certain sadness. “I wish I could, buddy. But I know Lynn. When she wants left alone, she really wants left alone,” he explains. He turns to look to the stairs again though, forlorn hope in his demeanor. “Maybe she’ll talk about it later. I hope so, anyway…”

…

As for Lynn, she continues trudging her way through the hall and to her bedroom. She forces the door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges, before slamming it shut as loudly as she can. She faces it, simply idling for a moment to catch her breath, and then she angrily locks it before turning to stand in the middle of the room.

She grits her teeth, she heaves out hitched breaths, sweat drips from her brow. Her freckled cheeks are almost crimson red, and she can’t stop shaking her fists.

Finally, she decides to release the frustration...

She cries.

She lets herself fall down on her bed, and allows the tears to fall and crash around her without any more hesitation.

At least she can do it where no one will see her…

\-----------------------

Much later that night…

Lincoln rests comfortably in his bed, smiling in his slumber as he snuggles his Bun Bun tight.

“Mmm… Don’t worry miss… I’ll save you,” he utters in his sleep. The smile turns into a bit of a wince though, and he twitches a little kick. “I… Yes… I have triple nutty nut bars… You want… You want…”

His bloodshot eyes nearly bug out of his head as he awakens. He jolts up into a seated position, then relaxes as he lets out an “mmmmmm…” with a grin.

“Triple nutty nut bars…” he utters, and his stomach growls. He ponders his situation for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for him to come to a decision. “Alright Bun Bun, I guess I’m breaking out the stash,” he tells his bedfellow.

The white haired boy stands up, stretches, and yawns. After a short moment to convalesce, he calmly and casually makes his way out the door and into the dark hallway.

He passes the oldest siblings’ rooms without a care, but upon seeing the closed bedroom door of Lucy and Lynn…

He sighs, remembering the events of earlier in the day. “Poor Lynn… I hope she’s feeling alright,” he quietly thinks aloud.

But, being somewhere around 4:00 in the morning, he decides it probably isn’t best to bother her now. Instead, he decides to put it out of his mind for the while, and focus on the delicious delicacy that eluded him in his slumber.

However, his stash (as he affectionately calls it), is not under this roof. With ten chocolate loving sisters around, and his mother on some days, he knows the only safe haven for his treats is in the garage.

Nobody goes there at 4:00 in the morning.

He puts his shoes and his coat on, and grabs a tennis racket just in case any opposing forces like automatons or villains of any sort should happen to stand in his way. Then, with a deep breath, he creeps his way out the door.

…

Moments later, he finds himself approaching the backdoor to the garage. Things are quiet, things are copacetic. Good. Excellent. Maybe he could get in and get out without any incid-

“RYYYYYER!” he hears his pet cat Cliff cry out as he happens to step on the poor feline's tail, causing him to dart off.

“AHHH!” Lincoln hollers, but he quickly slaps his hands to his mouth, hoping it will somehow shove the noise back in.

It doesn't, but at the very least, he's able to listen carefully for a moment to see if anyone has been disturbed by his moan.

It would seem all is well, so he sighs of relief before wiping his brow. “Phew…”

But then, he hears a clatter from inside the garage.

He tenses up, realizing that something or someone could be in there. The very same place where he fortifies his secret stash of sweets.

He listens carefully once again, and hears yet another faint clatter from inside the building.

“Oh no,” he fretfully moans. What could it be? A rodent? A burglar? A _ghost?_

 _“I should just turn back now,”_ he thinks. _“I should go get Mom or Dad or Lori, or maybe even Lynn.”_

He stops shaking and shivering as she remembers he has a tennis racket in his hand, and he imagines just what would happen if he approached Lynn in such a state. She’d tell him to _man up! Take matters into your own hands!_

Better yet, if it were her in this position rather than him, she wouldn’t think twice. She’d find out what’s in there right now, and take care of it herself. For the family!

WIth that thought, he decides to buck up, and be the person his hero would be. Not Ace Savvy, not Hunter Specter...

Lynn Loud Jr.

Without any further hesitation, he wraps his eleven year old hand around the door handle of the aforementioned door, then twists and pushes it open.

“YAHH!” he shouts as a battle cry, entering with his racket held high.

Aaaaaand, he feels a tennis ball hit his femur. Ouch.

Another then hits his chest, before a third one strikes him right in the head, sending him slipping and falling onto his keister.

“YOWWW!”

After taking a moment to let the birds flying around his head disappear, he shakes himself and looks on to see who his attacker is.

To his surprise, it is actually Lynn.

She's knelt behind an old chair, her head just above eye level. She has another tennis ball in her hand, but upon realizing who she just bombarded with the ones prior, she drops it.

“Lincoln?” she voices as she comes out from behind her chair shield.

Lincoln rubs the tender spot on his head, still in somewhat of a daze before he notices his older sister grabbing him by his hand to help him to his feet.

“Ohhhh,” he moans. “Dang Lynn. Your throws have gotten better since last time,” he tells her.

She amusedly huffs. “Yeah, and your skull's gotten thicker.”

The two siblings simply look to one another for a moment, studying one another. In the time, Lincoln can see the stress marks around Lynn's eyes. She doesn't smile, in fact, she could almost be considered frowning. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe.

But then her brow furrows, and she narrows her eyes with scorn. Uh oh.

“Lincoln, what are you doing here? Did Lucy send you? I swear I didn't take her stupid pillow. I don't even like that thing! It's too fluffy,” she cusses, hardly giving herself or her brother any room to breathe.

The white haired boy tenses up. “Pillow? What?”

Lynn forcefully uses her fingers to open Lincoln's eyelids wide, peering into his eyeball. She shrugs and releases him though. “Ehh, you're not concussed.”

She walks away, and lets out a yawn before deciding to go lie back down in the makeshift bed she's put together on the floor. “Good night, Stinkoln,” shw tells him. And almost like a keen pup, she spreads herself out on it to get comfortable, and shuts her eyes to return to sleep.

Lincoln just curiously watches on, then shrugs. Why was she sleeping in here? He doesn’t know. He'll ask her next time.

What he _does_ know is that there are some triple nutty nut bars just calling his name, and after being struck by three tennis balls, he wasn't leaving empty handed.

WIth that, he tip toes over to the farthest east corner of the garage, keeping his sleeping sister in mind as to not disturb her once more, and picks up an old cardboard box on the bottom rung of a shelf. He blows the dust off of it, and slowly ghosts the flaps open. He’s sure to keep one eye on Lynn as he does this all, but she couldn’t care less as she rests comfortably.

It brings a little smile to his face seeing her like this. Quiet, vulnerable, but beautiful as always. He’d always hoped his sisters knew just how he cared about them, but in this moment, he wonders if he does well enough with her.

 _“It’s something to consider going forward,”_ he mentally notes before returning to his current objective. Reclaiming the Command Post that is his stash of sugary confections.

At last, he feasts his eyes on the plastic baggy full of treats to feast upon. The Hallelujah chorus plays in his mind, his eyes become hearts, and drool falls from his watery, almost panting mouth.

“Jackpot. Come to Lincoln,” he whispers to himself as he digs inside the bag to scoop up some candy.

However, he finds several discarded candy wrappers lying among the untainted bars. “What the--?”

As he studies the evidence of thievery, something even more questionable happens. A pink slip of paper falls from the wrappers, falling to the floor.

Lincoln gently puts his candy (and a bunch of wrappers) back in their honey hole, and shifts his attention to the slip of paper. He picks it up, and it reads:

...

_Royal Woods Middle School Valentine’s Day Dance!_

_Thursday 6:00 - 8:30_

_Bring your special sweetheart for a night to never forget!_

…

Valentine’s Day.

Yeah, Lincoln hadn’t put too much thought into that until now. Why? Because it was the same thing every year, and he was tired of beating himself up over it. This year, after nearly becoming numb to feelings of rejection and loneliness that fall over him every February 14th, it just kind of fell to the back of his mind. He had more important things to worry about.

Like video games and comic books.

But now, he feels himself becoming a little flushed. Valentine’s Day was happening right now, and he hadn’t even realized it until finding this flier.

_“But how did this get here?”_

He looks around, and his eyes fall on the only other person in the room: Lynn.

The candy wrappers, the letter, the Lynn… It could all only add up to one logical conclusion!

Suddenly though…

“LINCOLN!” Lynn shouts as she frantically rises up into a seated position.

“AHH!” Lincoln blurts out with the sudden excitement, dropping the flier and cowering. “Please don’t hurt me!”

Lynn takes a moment to convalesce, rubbing her eyes before she stands herself up to walk over to him. Whatever tiredness that had overwhelmed her before has been replaced by something between paranoia, impatience, annoyance, and indigestion.

She squints her interrogating eyes at her brother. “You never answered me. What are you doing out here creeping on me for?” she tartly asks.

Lincoln sweats bullets as he tries to compose a response that will appease her at least a little bit.

It’s hard to focus when the intimidating jock is inches away from him with that _I’m going to pulverise you_ tsundere look, but by the grace of some sort of divine intervention, his synapses are able to lead him to an actual fruitful thought.

He can recover from this, by simply asking one question in response.

“What are _you_ doing out here?” Lincoln asks.

Lynn becomes flustered upon hearing these words, her pupils getting shaky, her hand wandering to the back of her neck to anxiously scratch it.

“Uhm, well, that’s none of your business!” she blurts out. “But you being here is my business! So spill!” she demands with her bony finger wagging in his face now.

This is a different kind of yelling from his thirteen year old sister, Lincoln realizes. There’s angry Lynn, and there’s showoff Lynn. This was the most seldom seen Lynn, though. One he’s only seen on a few occasions.

This was panicking Lynn.

With this in mind, Lincoln decides to muster some of that same courage she inspired him to have entering the garage this late at night (or early in the morning) in the first place.

And considering he already had a pretty good idea who ate some of his stash, he decides there’s no harm in opening up about his secret now.

“Well, I came here to have some of my old Halloween candy, but someone beat me to it,” he answers, picking up one of the stray candy wrappers from the garage floor to hold up for her.

Lynn nervously chuckles. “Heh heh… Uh… Nutty nut bars. Those are pretty great…”

Lincoln simply responds with an accusing eyebrow raise while placing his hands to his hips.

Lynn sighs. “Okay, I found your stash. But I promise I was gonna use my babysitting money to replace what I ate before you would ever know!” she claims.

Lincoln rolls his eyes. “Well, I guess that’s fine. But it still doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing out here sleeping in the garage?”

Lynn glowers at him for a moment, but eases into a more somber tone, letting it stay with her.

“I just had a bad day at school. I didn’t wanna be around anyone. And I didn’t wanna be a jerk and ask Lucy to leave our room again, so I just snuck out here after she went to bed,” she answers as she goes to sit back down on her cozy little spot on the floor.

Lincoln ponders her words for a moment, before deciding to keep being bold. It’s worked out well so far.

“Uhm, does it have anything to do with this flier?” he asks, picking up the pink slip of paper for the Valentine’s Day dance.

As soon as he displays it for her, her sour frown returns to her, and she quickly snatches it from his hand before sitting back down. “Give me that!”

She looks to the piece of paper, and crumbles it up in a ball to throw it across the room before looking back to her brother.

“Jeez, why do you have to always be so nosy, Lincoln? Why can’t you just mind your own business?”

He hears her words. More importantly, he sees her eyes.

In them, there’s pain. There’s anguish. If she wanted to, she could probably cry, but he knows she won’t in front of him.

And it’s because of this that he knows he can’t just leave this one alone. Maybe he is a little nosy, but he doesn't care about that. He just wants to help Lynn, and he just wants to show her he cares.

So, he takes a deep breath, and braces himself for the worst. It’s a risk well worth taking though.

“Lynn, will you please just tell me what’s going on?” he implores, even going as far as to step towards her.

She meets this with a sharp glower. “Lincoln!--” she starts, but she hesitates. “...You are treading on some mighty thin ice right now.”

Again, he hears her words. But he can’t give up now. Not when he feels so close to a breakthrough.

So rather than stepping away, he stands firm, and speaks from his heart.

“Lynn, I’m not leaving unless you literally kick my butt out the door. If something is going on, you don’t have to face it alone,” he begins, looking her in the eyes all the while.

He can see her ebbing on the vengefulness, deflating slightly with that same certain sadness returning to her.

Maybe he’d live to regret the decision he’ll soon make, but he follows through with it anyway. If not him, who will?

He decides to take a seat beside her. Her eyes widen upon seeing him brave this far, especially when he makes a point to look to her face once he’s seated by her. She couldn’t look mean right now if she tried. Whatever he was doing, it was working.

So he presses further.

“You know, this family is kind of like a team. Sometimes, it’s up to us to face things on our own,” Lincoln tells her. “But other times, we have to come together to win. I’m not afraid to ask someone for help every once in a while.”

“I’m not afraid,” Lynn weakly retorts, her voice a little shaky.

Lincoln winces a faint little smile. “I know you’re not. You and Lucy are the only ones who don’t need a night light. And I’m pretty sure that’s more because of you,” he reminds her.

She can’t help it, she has smile just a _little_ bit because of that.

But then, she falls into silence, thinking over just how to respond to Lincoln’s consideration.

Finally, she speaks her mind.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” she starts, looking to her brother’s eyes. “But I swear on your Ace Savvy card collection, if you tell _anyone_ about this, I’ll actually flush you down the toilet. I’ll find a way,” she promises.

Lincoln smiles at her. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m good with secrets.”

Lynn sighs with some relief. “I know. You did take the fall for Lucy over Princess Pony, after all,” she casually replies.

Lincoln’s eyes widen with surprise. “Wait, she told you about that?”

Lynn shrugs. “Hey, me and Luce have the occasional heart to heart. She tells me about Ponies, I tell her about wanting to get better at Lit class; we talk about stuff,” she reveals.

But she wistfully looks to the ground, taking a quiet, deep breath.

“But this isn’t something I can talk to her, or really anybody else about,” she explains. “They’ll ask too many questions, or try and meddle. That’s not what I need right now.”

Lincoln thinks over her words before composing a response. “Okay, so, what do you need?”

Lynn looks back to him, all the excitement gone from her demeanor. “I don’t know what I need, honestly. But I will admit, it’d be nice just to have someone hear me out for a bit.”

Lincoln smiles. “I’m all ears.”

Lynn smiles back, an amused little huff escaping her. “More like all feet. Seriously, you’ve got some big feet for a kid your age,” she jokes, pointing them out.

Lincoln takes it in stride though, simply rolling his eyes and saying, “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

Lynn does laugh, just a little. But once she gets it out of her system, she goes back to being completely serious as she looks forward, unable to face her brother now.

With a little trepidation, she proceeds to tell him just what’s troubling her.

“So, I bet you wanna know why I had this stupid flier, huh?”

“Kind of,” Lincoln timidly admits.

“I thought so,” Lynn replies, and she heavily sighs before going any further. “Well, the truth is, I had no intention of ever going. Even when I first heard about it. It just sounded lame, and I’d rather stay home and do my own thing, ya know?” she explains.

Lincoln simply pays attention, keeping his feelings and his thoughts to himself as he allows his sister to say what she needs to say to him.

She looks to him again though, more sullen than before.

“Well, that was until I heard some girls talking in homeroom.”

“What kind of things did they say?” Lincoln softly, inquisitively asks.

There’s more hesitation from Lynn, but she perseveres and tells him the truth.

“They were all bragging about how they were going to have the _awesomest night ever_ with their dates at the dance, and, being me, I could only keep from regurgitating for so long. I made a snide comment about how stupid they were being, and… then they said some mean things to me,” she trails off.

She frowns.

“Gosh, this is so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Lincoln assures her, but she stubbornly brushes him off.

“Just-- just let me finish,” Lynn tells him, and she continues.

“They told me I couldn’t get a date even if I tried. They said I’m too manly. That I shouldn’t even bother because of how ugly and dumb I am.”

Lincoln frowns too. “Lynn, that’s so not true.”

Again, she brushes him off. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t care what they think of me anyway,” she bluntly states. But it doesn’t make her feel any better about any of this, and it shows in the way she pitifully hunches over.

“But then something happened to make me realize… maybe they’re right about me.”

Lincoln fixes his eyes on her, but she can’t face him. She tries her best to stay strong, but the cracks show all to well with the way she can’t sit up straight, or the way she eyes the ground with her deep, glossy brown eyes.

“I decided that, maybe it would be fun to try going to the dance. It would really stick it to those skunkbags!” she says with a brief surge of energy. But she slouches over again. “And… Well… I’m a still a girl, ya know? Just because I like sports and beating you up every now and then doesn’t make me some… heartless barbarian _._ Sometimes, I like doing girly things, too,” she admits.

Lincoln can only watch with himself on edge, latching on for dear life to everything she has to say. This may be the only time she ever opens up to him like this, and he really doesn’t want to mess it up by saying the wrong thing, or make her stop. So he just listens, his heart rate increasing with every confession.

And Lynn keeps going, even if it hurts.

“So, I thought hard about it, and I decided, maybe it was time to make a change for myself. I’m gonna be going to high school next year. Things will be different. So, maybe I could make them a good kind of different, ya know?”

She winces, and blinks like she might have something wrong with her eyes. But she shakes it off, and braces herself down to deliver the crushing blow.

“So I asked Francisco if he’d want to go to the dance with me.”

Lincoln’s draw actually drops. Lynn? Ask a boy out? It was one thing for her to send anonymous love letters and lucky jocks, but to actually make the first move on a boy about something as serious as a school dance? _Crazy._

Normally, he’d jump up with glee. It’d be something to celebrate with the girls over some tea and scones. But with the atmosphere created in this garage so late at night yet early in the morning… he knows this won’t be the time for that. It may be far worse than what she’s led on, even.

But he keeps this to himself, anticipating more from Lynn.

“So what happened?” he bravely asks, just edging forward enough to show her he’s here for her and listening.

She sniffles once. Probably nothing to report. It’s a garage. Dust and pollen. Yeah.

Regardless, she’s gotten this far. That doesn’t make what she has to say next any easier, but she’s not one to leave something unfinished. And… it was nice to get these things off her chest to someone she trusts.

“Well… I asked him, and he was nice about it. But I guess a girl named Tanya asked him out first.”

“Ouch,” Lincoln utters, regretting letting it escape his lips immediately after.

But, Lynn doesn’t take it too hard. She just scoffs. “Shyeah. I know right? Stupid Tanya,” she retorts. But even with her usual arrogance on display, she can’t hide how it really hurts her. Lincoln’s smarter than that.

Lincoln thinks over how to make things a little easier for his sister, and settles for the following.

“So… What did he say to you?” he asks.

For a moment, Lynn says nothing. She just looks to the side, resting her head in her arms, contemplating how to save the most face. Or at the very least, how not to sound totally pathetic.

But she bites the bullet, and just talks without overthinking it any more.

“He said he was flattered, and that I’m nice…” she belatedly tells Lincoln, almost fighting to get the words to leave her larynx. “But he doesn’t want to hurt Tanya’s feelings.”

 _“Okay, Lincoln. If there was ever a time to break in and offer some actual feedback, it’s now,”_ the white haired boy thinks to himself before summoning the courage to speak up.

“Hey, that’s not so bad,” he says in a soothing voice. “He just doesn’t want to let her down. I’m sure if he wasn’t already going with her, he would have gladly decided to go with you,” he claims with conviction in his words.

And while Lynn wants to let his words help her feel better. She just can’t. They just don’t.

She barely looks to him out of the corner of her eye, still resting her face in her arms.

“Yeah, that’s a nice thought,” she responds. “But if he really liked me, he’d just go with me anyway.”

Hearing this makes Lincoln’s heart sink, and breaks the smile that briefly encroached on his face. As much as he’d like to argue that point, he simply can’t think of anything sufficient.

Not that it would matter either way. Lynn makes this obvious soon enough.

She wipes her nose with her forearm, because of allergies of course, before fixing her posture and defiantly looking skyward.

“I know you’re trying to help me, Lincoln. And I really appreciate it. But the truth is, this just isn’t something you can fix. I just need to be alone for a while and get over it,” she stresses.

Lincoln considers her claim, but stubbornly refuses to let it get to him. Maybe there’s one last thing he can do to help her, and he decides it’s worth trying. Better than saying nothing else and heading back off to bed, anyway.

He looks to the ground himself, then looks back up to Lynn, fixing his eyes on her once more, refusing to look away.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Lynn. I really am,” he apologizes. He then takes a breath, and continues on. “But if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who’s… been there before…”

She questionably furrows her brow, and looks back to her brother.

Realizing he may have her attention now, Lincoln keeps going.

“Valentine’s Day has always been my least favorite day of the year,” he admits, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Sure, there’s the candy hearts, and every once in a while we’ll get lucky and Mom won’t finish all the chocolate Dad gets her… But going to school and being a part of it? It’s torture,” he expresses.

Lynn ebbs on her despondence to allow herself to focus on what she’s being told, and listens carefully as Lincoln lays it down thicker and heavier.

“Even though I’ve had some luck with girls, like Ronnie Anne,” he says with the _faintest_ glimmer of a smile, “I’m usually the kid who goes home feeling crummier than I did walking in. No one goes out of there way to buy me a rose, or a box of chocolates, or anything like that. The closest I got was Clyde sending me a Valentine’s Bunny--”

“They make those?” Lynn interrupts.

“Apparently,” Lincoln answers. “Anyway, the closest I got was him sending me one and pretending it was from a secret admirer. But then I just made an idiot of myself when I asked Girl Jordan is she was the one who sent it, and he fessed up over it.”

Hearing the sad story actually makes Lynn brighten up just a little. “Oh wow. When did this happen?” she asks.

Lincoln sighs, letting himself feel a little amusement over it as well. “Last year.”

They both share smiles with one another over the anecdote, savoring the moment for what it’s worth until Lincoln decides he has more to say.

“The point is, I already know what to expect tomorrow. Maybe some girl will surprise me, but I’m not getting my hopes up. But you know what? I’m okay with that. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me to find something like that,” he expresses before turning to his sister once again. “And you do too. And trust me, someone as awesome as you won’t have any trouble at all.”

Lynn softly smiles at his kind words, but only for a moment. It soon fades, and her air of sadness returns to her as she looks away.

“Thanks Lincoln. Thanks for hearing me out,” she tells him.

And yet, it doesn’t satisfy the boy. He can still see pain in her eyes.

But before he can get another word out, she’s stretching and letting out a yawn, maybe a fake one, maybe a real one, he can’t be sure. But he already knows what she’s going to say next.

“It’s pretty late, Linc. You should head back inside and get some sleep before school,” Lynn suggests, practically signifying she’s had enough with this conversation.

Lincoln realizes this, and lets out a sigh before standing up from the makeshift bed. He turns and faces her once he’s to his feet, and looks to her with an almost pleading glance. “Are you gonna come back to the house?” he asks her.

She considers his invitation, but meets him with a dejected tone to her glossy brown eyes.

“No,” she simply states.

He could argue, he could beg, he could even try and drag her out the door and make her come inside with him. But Lincoln decides she’s indulged him enough, and swallows his pride. He’s done all he can do for her, at least for the time being.

And while she may feel a little relief in sharing what she’s shared, or just knowing she can come and talk to him about this, it doesn’t stop him from feeling a nagging sense of failure.

But, it’s just something he’ll have to accept. At least she won’t go to bed angry with him, and at least she was nice enough not to eat _all_ of his candy bars.

With a heavy heart, he turns away from his fifth eldest sister, apprehension in his gait. It’s hard for him to leave her like this, but he reluctantly makes his way over to his candy stash, and decides to take some treats for the road. Maybe they’d help him sleep better, or at the very least, distract him from the guilt he now feels for Lynn.

While he’s ruffling through the sack of sugar, Lynn makes herself comfortable in her “bed.” She lies on her side, and finds herself staring at her brother for a moment.

After some thought, she decides to leave him with the following words.

“Hey, Lincoln,” she starts.

He turns around, his sack of candy in hand, and meets her gaze.

With a smile, she tells him, “You know, I usually don’t eat your candy.”

Lincoln meets her with a bit of skepticism before she elaborates.

“I usually eat Lucy’s candy, and then fill her bag up with some of yours. She’s scarier than you,” Lynn admits.

Lincoln cocks a little grin at her statement, but says nothing. He decides just to let her have this one. It was funny, and it was sweet… for Lynn.

So he decides it was well enough for tonight’s departing words, and makes his way for the door after collecting his candy.

Lynn though, she keeps watching him. Eager, _anxious_ to hear more.

When she realizes he won’t say anything else though, she realizes she can’t let it end like this.

“Lincoln,” she calls to him once more, desperation almost bleeding into her tone.

Just as he had made it to the door, too. He backs his hand away from the knob, and looks back to his restless sister with a hint of somberness in his eyes.

“Try to have a happy Valentine’s Day,” Lynn softly says to her brother, a weak smile on her face.

Lincoln returns the gesture with one of his own. “You too, Lynn.”

He turns away, and makes his way out the door, being sure to stay as quiet as possible. Lynn watches him walk out, and keeps her eyes glued to the door for a little while before rolling over on her other side. The smile fades from her face, and she lets out a dejected sigh.

Until she hears a familiar screech from Cliff coming from outside, “RYYYYYER!” followed by Lincoln cussing, “Dang it!”

That makes her smile, and she keeps the image in her mind’s eye as she closes her eyes to drift off to sleep.

\-----------------------

Lincoln successfully makes his way back into the house, actually making it to his bedroom without waking any of his other family members (pets included).

Upon entering his sanctuary, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Oh, Lynn…” he wistfully voices.

He drops his bag of chocolates on the floor, and rubs his tired eyes before making his way to his dresser. He picks up a small mirror that rests on top of it, and looks to his reflection. His turkey tail is a little ruffled, his eyes are a bit bloodshot, and there are small black circles under his eyes.

“Meh,” he utters as he puts the mirror down. “Totally ready to woo all the ladies at school later…” he snidely comments.

Valentine's Day. He didn't have many fond memories of this occasion. However, he does remember one instance in which a girl actually gave him a legitimate valentine made special just for him.

In fact, he still has it.

He smiles, and leans over to open the bottom drawer of his dresser. He rummages through its contents, including some Henry Plotter memorabilia and some old Piximon cards, before finding the special gift from many years ago.

“There you are,” he says with a smile as he carefully picks up an old, wrinkly piece of red paper shaped like a heart.

Crudely pasted on the red heart is a pink heart, and crudely pasted on the pink heart are two white bars. On the bars, squiggly black writing reads:

_To Lincoln Frum Lynn_

_I Love You_

It was seven years ago when a five year old Lynn Jr. gifted the special token to her baby brother, and he cherished it deeply ever since. Between all of their bickering, bantering, and occasional biting, they still loved each other very much. Not just as brother and sister, but as friends.

He knew that-- even if they were older now, too old to let it show like they did then, that it was still true. It would always be true.

And it hurts him even more to think that she could feel the way she does now.

He groans, “Uggggh!” before letting himself fall back first onto his bed.

“There has to be something I can do to make things better for her!” he cries. “But what?”

He thinks it over long and hard. It wouldn't be easy, but with a little sleep and school day to think it over, maybe he'd be able to come up with something halfway decent.

As his mind races a million miles an hour, his eyelids grow heavier, and his heart beats a little slower. All the while, Lynn's face-- frowning, smiling, growling even, burns deep in his mind.

What could he do to make her have a happy Valentine's Day?

Just as he shuts his eyes, ready to drift off to sleep, the proverbial light bulb shines over his white noggin.

He jolts up with a bright smile on his face.

“I've got it!”

\-----------------------

The next afternoon…

Lynn Loud comes home from school, approaching the front door of her suburban home.

“Okay, how do I go about this. Yesterday I was too shouty. I should play it standoffish tonight. Work more on gritting my teeth, less on flaring my nostrils,” she thinks aloud.

She takes a deep breath, and puts on her game face. A snarl, a growl, a furrow of the brow…

And… she gives up.

“What’s the point?” she dejectedly sighs.

So, rather than trying to put on a show, she decides just to enter her home, and hope for the best. The best being that no one else is around and she can just escape to her room to be alone.

She opens the door, and finds that no one is in the living room. Excellent. Good game so far.

Praying her luck won’t wear thin, she heads up the stairs, and makes her way straight to the door of her bedroom. Best off, none of her siblings are in the hall. Lucy may be in the ventilation ducts, which suits her just fine. That means no more yelling and being mean and feeling guilty about even more things.

She steps into their bedroom, and sure enough, no Lucy. However, she also notices a complete lack of balls in the room.

Literally.

“Where’s all my stuff?” she thinks aloud as she scrimmages through her room for balls, hockey sticks, helmets, pads, roller skates… But none of her sporting goods are here. Not even her old slingshot.

While this is going on, Leni Loud makes her through the hall, happily humming to herself as she happens to pass by the bedroom.

Lynn notices her, and stops her searching to address her.

“Len! Do you know what happened to all of my stuff?” she inquires to know.

Leni stops, and puts on her thinking face.

“Hmm… I think I saw Lincoln and Claude carry some of it out into the garage earlier,” she answers.

A snarl, a growl, a furrow of the brow… These ones formed from legitimate anger.

“I don’t know what he’s up to… But he better hope I find my plastic bat before my wooden one!” she thinks aloud as she makes her way past her older sister.

Leni just looks on inquisitively, but shrugs as she realizes this doesn’t have much else to do with her, and puts on a smile as she continues going about her business.

…

Lynn trudges her way out of the Loud house, and over to the garage. Seeing the brunette girl on her warpath, Cliff the cat tenses up, and scurries away before he can get his tail stepped on a third time.

Lynn doesn’t even notice him though. She can only focus on the scenarios playing out in her head regarding her younger brother Lincoln. What was he up to? Were he and his friends holding some stupid Olympic games in the garage, even after everything she told him yesterday?

_“That’s just like Lincoln! Always thinking about himself! I thought maybe he was more mature than that, but no. I was wrong. Just like I was wrong about Francisco… Gah!”_

She makes it to the garage door, and stops herself to try and regain some composure.

“Yoga breaths, Lynn. Just like Lori taught you. Breathe in through your nose, out of your mouth,” she voices as she does this.

Once she’s calmed herself just _slightly,_ she prepares to open the door, and see just whatever stupid thing Lincoln is up to.

_“Don’t let me down too bad, Stinkoln. If a single hockey stick is chipped…”_

She finally opens the door…

Inside, the lights are dimmed, and a disco ball hangs from the roof reflecting its glow in circles that speckle the four surrounding walls.

Everything that was in the garage; the shelves, the toolboxes, the cardboard boxes full of old junk, have all been moved elsewhere. In their place are red, white, and pink streamers, balloons, and paper hearts plastered along just about every inch of the place.

A table with a white tablecloth is set up along the far back wall, with a bowl full of punch and some refreshments placed on top of it.

There’s even a large stereo, likely Luna’s, set up in the far right corner, playing this song:

...

_*I see forever when I look in your eyes...*_

_*You're all I've ever wanted, I always want you to be mine...*_

_*Let's make a promise to the end of time...*_

_*We'll always be together, and our love will never die...*_

...

And in the middle of it all is Lincoln, standing in his blue suit with a proud smile on his face.

Lynn’s eyes grow wide and glossy upon seeing the spectacle. “Wh- What the--?”

Lincoln steps forward, and extends his hand for her to take it.

“May I have this dance, m’lady?”

Lynn scrutinizes him for a moment; the suit, the hair, the smile on his face, the look in his blue eyes.

At first, she feels a sense of wonder. It’s impressive, it really is. For a moment, it feels like an actual school dance.

But then reality sinks in. This isn’t her school, it’s her garage. This isn’t Francisco, it’s her little brother Lincoln.

The brief sense of nirvana her face conveyed is replaced by a cringe, and she shakes her head.

“Lincoln, what is this?” she sharply asks.

Lincoln’s smile wanes too, and he’s left feeling confused. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Uhm, it’s a dance?” he says with a forced, weak smile and a shrug.

Lynn looks around at all of it, taking it all in for a moment longer, then shakes her head again.

She notices some of her sporting equipment set up along the sidewall as she does.

“Why?” she simply says, pointing them out.

“Why have a ballroom with no balls?” Lincoln retorts.

“Lincoln…” Lynn says again, this time with disappointment in her tone.

“Before you say anything, hear me out,” he starts. “You said you were feeling really crummy yesterday. And I hated seeing you like that... I just wanted to try and help you feel better.”

“By… whatever _this_ is?” Lynn says with dejected disbelief.

Lincoln takes a moment to compose a response, thinking of what he could say to still make this work somehow.

“Lynn… I know this isn’t the real thing. But you deserve something,” he begins. “Forget what those stupid girls were saying. You’re awesome. And any guy would be lucky to take you to a dance. Any guy would be lucky to be _your_ valentine.”

He points to the red number one on her shirt. “You see that one? It’s not a joke. You really are number one.”

Lynn takes in his words, staring back into his eyes with a piteous expression.

She can’t fight it anymore. The pain is too real, especially facing it head on like this. She has to cry.

“But you’re wrong,” she says through the tears. “I’m not awesome. I’m weird. I’m ugly. I’m not like other girls who can wear dresses and do their make-up and be… beautiful…”

She has to stop to wipe the tears away from her eyes, and try to keep herself together. But she just can’t. For once, it’s just too hard for her.

“I know you’re just trying to be nice, and thanks for that. But the truth is, I don’t deserve it. I really don’t…”

Seeing her cry, hearing her say these things… It breaks Lincoln’s heart. It almost makes him tear up too.

What does he say? How can he convince her that these things couldn’t be any more untrue? Can words even do such a thing?

He decides that, they can’t. He could try, but they’d ultimately fall on deaf ears.

And that would spoil the surprise even more than it’s already been tainted.

With that, the boy looks to the ground with melancholy in his eyes. He slowly places his hand inside of his suit jacket, and pulls out a red piece of paper that was concealed inside.

He studies the paper for a moment, then without being able to look her in the eyes, extends it forward for Lynn to take it.

“Here,” he says, holding it out for her.

The girl takes a second to recover, and then looks to the paper, then Lincoln.

“What is this?” she asks.

“Just take it. Please,” Lincoln simply tells her, still unable to look into her eyes.

Without any more questioning, Lynn slowly takes the paper from her brother, and looks to it.

It’s shaped like a heart, and on it, another pink heart is crudely pasted to it. On the pink heart, two white bars are pasted to it as well.

And on the white bars, black handwriting reads:

…

_To Lynn, From Lincoln._

_I love you._

…

For a little while, she loses herself looking to the valentine card he made for her. It’s just like the one she sent him all those years ago, back when all of these things bothering her didn’t matter. Back when the only boy she had to worry about was her baby brother.

Just when she thought she could stop with the waterworks, she finds herself releasing more tears. Despite them, she’s able to look up to Lincoln, and meet his eyes with her own.

Because of her courage, he too is able to look back to her. He can see the pain in those big brown eyes, and he wants nothing more than to be able to take it away from her.

But then she speaks.

“Thank you,” she says. Such a simple set of words, but the way she says them, and the way an endearing smile stretches upon her face as she says them… they’re enough to fill Lincoln’s heart with an empowering sense of hope.

But it’s not enough. The card made her smile, but he can do so much more. He just knows he can.

So he decides to say the things he feels after all.

“No, thank you, Lynn... You’re not weird. You’re definitely not ugly. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re really smart, and super talented. You set your mind to things, and just-- _do_ them! You’re an amazing person. I couldn’t ask for a better sister.”

It’s cheesy, it’s super cheesy. She knows it, and she knows that Lincoln knows she knows it. But dang it, he’s being so nice, and this all just feels so great. Even if it’s not the real thing, it’s actually better in a strange sort of way.

He believes everything he says, and the card she gifted him is wonderful. That’s enough for her.

She smiles at him, and he smiles back.

“I love you too, Stinkoln,” she tells him with a little sniffle.

That’s all he needed to hear.

“So, can I have that dance, now?” he asks her, once again inviting her to take his hand.

She looks to it, then looks to him, then looks back to his hand. She nods with approval, and utters, “Okay,” before accepting his hand with her own.

He takes her out into the middle of the floor, right underneath the disco ball, and carefully takes the lead as he begins to waltz with her.

They look into one another's eyes for a short while, exchanging the same feelings of compassion and understanding with this mutual gaze.

For Lynn, she’s able to take comfort in her brother. She's able to forget about the mean girls, Francisco, and not going to the school dance. It doesn't matter anymore. This does.

For Lincoln? He's just happy to be dancing with his sister.

Eventually, she decides to rest her head on his shoulder, and take even greater comfort in his embrace. She's safe here. Nothing can get to her.

As long as he doesn't blab to anyone.

“If you tell anyone about this, I'll flush you down the toilet,” she tells him, mostly teasing.

He smiles at that. “Happy Valentine's Day, Lynn,” he simply responds.

And for a while, they just dance underneath the neon lights, without cares for the things that bothered them today or in the years past.

They had each other on this Valentine's Day, and that's all that mattered.

THE END

 

**Author's Note:**

> The song that played was “When I Look Into Your Eyes” by Firehouse.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed. Thanks for reading!
> 
>  


End file.
